


hindsight is 20/20 (foresight isn't)

by uyu (orphan_account)



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood and Injury, Car Accidents, Emetophobia, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Platonic Relationships, it sounds sarcastic but they rly.. are just bros5life, yeah onghwang are NOT boyfriends damn imagine that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/uyu
Summary: rule to survival #248: when your best friend asks you if you would help them a hide body, always think aheador, the one when minhyun promised seongwu he'd help him hide a body and, well, the time's come, kids! buckle up and look both ways before crossing the street!





	hindsight is 20/20 (foresight isn't)

**Author's Note:**

> alternative, less classy title: hindsight is 20/20 (foresight's just shit)
> 
>  ** _THERE'S NO SMUT!_** this fic is rated M because i think T wouldn't be enough considering the topics + language in this……. and maybe i talked abt like. a blowjob idk the writing process is fuzzy and i might pass out after i post this
> 
>  
> 
>   **> >>don't be misled** this fic starts v light n stuff but it gets ???progressively darker i believe??? so!!!!! yeah hehe enjoy ur reading & stuff
> 
> with all of that out of the waaayyyy…. and i do think that's all there is ( **IF THERES MORE PLS COMMENT SO I CAN ADD TAGS AND/OR WARNINGS IN THIS NOTE!** ) enjoy ur reading!!!! everything is all over the place we love not planning shit!!!!! :D

**Scene I**

Parties are okay as long as they don't involve too many people with lots of booze and zero parental supervision.

This party that Seongwu dragged him meets none of those requirements to make it at least a bearable one, so Minhyun is considering putting their friendship on hold as he weaves through the throngs of inebriated people to find Seongwu, maybe pour the beer he worked so hard to find down his shirt if his shoes got stepped on just one more time.

Well, Minhyun gets it: they're eighteen and not getting any younger, and Seongwu, as an extrovert, craves having people around him all the time, something their weekly movie nights can't provide unless they also invite Minhyun's overly enthusiastic neighbor and—no. It's a week before they both get send off to college the same way Seongwu's cousin got sent off to juvie—and later to a Christian camp in the outskirts of the city, so he could _reconnect_ with God but they all know that kid is better friends with Satan than with any celestial deity—so he really gets it, the need to get hammered and do something embarrassing like calling their old History teacher and tell him he's hot and their gay awakening, but… is it necessary? He won't ask, because Seongwu will give him those kicked puppy eyes and make him sit on the ratty couch that smells like piss and some _thing_ else for the rest of the night. But the question is still there, floating over his head.

Finally, _finally_ , after so long and an awkward encounter with Seongwu's ex ("So, you've been good?" she'd asked and Minhyun nodded, waiting for the fuckface who refused to let _him_ look for the damn beer himself, something about having to watch out for the fancy porcelain plates. "And… how has Seongwu been? Is he still, you know, single and totally miserable without me? He should grow up."), he finds Seongwu sitting next to a couple of guys who are shot-gunning their own beers like an entranced little kid watching a magician disappear his respectable companion. Oh, how badly he wants to splash this smelly beer on Seongwu's face. But he won't because he's a good friend. And that would only send all of his efforts to hell, meaning he'd stood there with Gloria—("Oh, I'm _Celeste_ now. My new boyfriend says it sounds as ethereal as I look. Tell Seongwu." "That… you're ethereal?" "No, that I have a new boyfriend. That says I'm ethereal and gave me a new name,")—for nothing. He won't do that to himself, no sir.

"There you are, man of the night," praises Seongwu when Minhyun flops now on the floor before him, cringing at the drops of beer that landed on him as he approached the scene. "Thanks, best friend ever."

Minhyun scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I'm your only friend ever, Seongwu."

"There's no one like you, Hwang Minhyun," he says and blows him a kiss.

If Minhyun had to describe Seongwu in very few words, they'd be _pain in the ass_ —but everything is capitalized, in bold and italics. An extensive list would say he's loud and sometimes forgets to say thank you, but Minhyun forgets more than him so that's fine; he doesn't like losing and chances are he will throw a tantrum if you don't tell him that he's right. He likes getting his way and acts like a child more often than not. He thinks he's grown and the next second he's asking him to do his laundry and explain to him how the blender works—he also thinks the blender is a thing from hell and despises microwaves with all he's got. Sometimes Seongwu acts like he owns Minhyun and has a hard time understanding that Minhyun can't always be part of his scene— _this_ scene, with the booming and the people and the not being able to hold a proper conversation without one of them falling over his feet.

But Minhyun likes Seongwu, that's his other half and there are very few things he wouldn't do for the guy.

Which is why, as the night progresses, he finds himself patting Seongwu in the back as he empties his stomach in some kid's toilet while letting his eyes scout the room for some cleaning supplies that he can use afterwards.

After another load, Seongwu takes his time breathing. He looks at Minhyun all dazed and gone before he says, "You—you are the _best_ perrrson ev-errr dude. Like. Minyeonie I would die for you. Die and kill. If— _if_ you ever need me ta kick sum' in the—hehe— _butt_ , you tell me, okay? 'Cuz I will. Promise."

"Thanks Ong," he replies softly, brushing Seongwu's hair out of his face. "Do you think you can get up? Are you done?"

Seongwu nods in turn. "Ye _p_ , that looked like my sandwich this morning. Don't have anything else in here," he rubs his tummy lazily, letting down his guard for a moment and almost diving headfirst into the dirty toilet. Minhyun's fast reflexes stop him from doing so and he can't help but think that he needs someone to pay him for looking after Seongwu.

"Alright buddy, take my h—on a second thought, let me just wet some towels and clean you a bit first. Don't, like, die."

"'S okay, I won't." Seongwu sounds so sleepy that he might as well just be lying to Minhyun. "Want—" _burp_ —"want me to keep ta'lin to ya _p_?"

Minhyun hums as he drowns a hand towel in the sink. "Sure, why not."

"Okieee," he giggles. "You know how… like… when it's night and the sky… gets dark?" He waits a moment. "What the fuck is that about? How—how is it sunny one moment and then it's not?" He sounds so confused that Minhyun has to bite his own lips to not laugh at him. "Do you think the government has something to do with that?"

Crouching in front of him, Minhyun takes Seongwu's hands in his own and starts to wipe at them. "Probably," he murmurs.

"And—and—and. What's _up_ with that one guy? You know the guy with the hair. He has… teeth."

"Oh, no, how dare he."

Seongwu gapes and opens his eyes wide. "Right? What the fuck! Teeth…"

"Any more questions, Ong? We're almost done here," he informs him.

"Yeah, jus'… jus' one tiny… question," Seongwu says drowsily. "If—would you ever help me hide a dead body? That's, like, the ultimate friendship test. You—if you say no then you're not my friend. You're not my Minyeonie. My Minyeonie would say y—I can't tell you what he'd say 'cuz if you're not my Minyeonie then you'd just say it to convince me that you _are_. So would you."

Minhyun has to laugh this time. He, as he can, takes Seongwu by the hands again and somehow gets him to his feet. Closes the toilet lid and flushes down whatever is in that bowl. Then he directs Seongwu to the sink so he can wash his face and gargle some water with toothpaste (this guy doesn't have mouthwash. And where's his floss, huh? That's a lot of plaque he must have in that mouth of his) and tells him, "Of course I would. I'm your Minyeonie and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, dude."

"Thank you," Seongwu mumbles sleepily. He splashes water on his face and, dripping wet, he looks at Minhyun through the mirror. "Please take me to the toilet again. I forgot I had a tater-tot before my sandwich."

 

**Scene II**

"Oh, fuck _you_."

There must be better ways—normal ways—to wake up on a Monday morning other than the shrill voice of his aunt's husband's daughter yelling at his best friend, but Minhyun hasn't found out what those are. If anyone is interested in letting him know, check the contacts at the bottom of the page. He looks forward to them.

But as long as he doesn't know, Minhyun conforms to this. The fighting is almost habitual at this point. Never a peaceful Monday morning in the Ong-Hwang dorm and he thinks this has got to be some kind of curse or something worth of a prize; just, they're in their first year of college—not even halfway through, by the way! As freshmen, Minhyun expected things to be difficult, harder than high school. But he was only ready to second guess his every choice in the assignments and to overcome whatever minimal fear he might've had of having to ask people to partner up with him when the time came. Teachers back at school didn't tell him that his best friend and his aunt's husband's daughter that he _refuses_ to call his cousin for reasons would end up having this chaotic fling type of thing. Not even his counselor did—what good is that Cambridge degree if you're not using it right, Ms. Thomas, you fucker!

Waking up to birds chirping on his window and the sun coming in through his blinds would've been preferred. But he has _this_ instead, in his shitty room that does not allow visits past ten o'clock and yet.

"What did I even do this time?" He can hear Seongwu yelling back. Not that it's hard to do: they're literally just twenty steps away.

"What the _fuck_ do you mean what did you do? Imagine how nice it is to wake up to your disgusting face telling me to get out. I hadn't even opened my eyes!"

And _yet_ Seokyi had overstayed her visit last night. And by _overstayed_ Minhyun meant that Seongwu hid her in their cramped closet—breaking one of Minhyun's nice hangers in the process!—and bribed her roommate into keeping hush-hush about the whole thing so Seokyi could sleep over. Minhyun doesn't want to _know_ what went on while he had his earphones on.

Either way, he's going to lose. The moment Seokyi walks out of that door Seongwu is going to start calling her annoying and saying things like "I can't believe that's your cousin. Sorry" and Minhyun will be like "she's not but okay, I guess", only so he can get a phone call from his aunt telling him that Seokyi called _her_ crying about this Seongwu Minhyun's friend yet again. Then rinse and repeat next week.

Minhyun remains motionless as he listens on. "I _mean_ ," begins Seongwu, "that any moment now Jisung is going to start inspecting the rooms and if you don't move, like, now, he's gonna catch us… _both_ of us. So get out already."

"You're the biggest dick I've ever met in my life, oh my god." She seems to be getting up from bed, if the rustle of sheets is anything to go by.

Seongwu scoffs. "Thanks, I know."

"You're disgusting. Go to hell." Then, like clockwork, Minhyun's alarm goes off in tandem to Seokyi slamming the door shut, like she's not that worried about being seeing doing the walk of shame out of Seongwu's room.

"You know," Minhyun says when Seongwu stands up too and makes his joints crack back into place, "you should either stop meeting her here and letting her stay the night or just stop seeing her, period. 'Cuz I always end up with the short end of the stick."

At that, Seongwu mumbles something Minhyun can't quite understand and strips Minhyun of his sheets so he can get in bed with him. "Sorry. She's just so… _hot_."

"Wouldn't be able to tell you," comments Minhyun offhandedly.

He feels Seongwu nodding against the shared pillow. "'Cuz she's your cousin."

"Because I'm _gay_ , dumbass," he clarifies. Then adds as an afterthought, "and she's not my cousin, please."

"Could've fooled me. It's almost like she's always been part of the family." Seongwu rests his head on Minhyun's shoulder. "You're getting so bony."

"Yeah, 'cuz you two ransack the ramen stash we have and the cafeteria is so far away." He shrugs. "I'm just waiting for Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs to come true."

Seongwu laughs. "I'll build the machine, don't worry."

"Oh, but with you I always worry. You'll get me killed one day."

"'S okay, if you die I'll just kill whoever killed _you_."

Minhyun slaps his stomach with the back of his hand. "Don't say that. You're supposed to say that you'll never get me killed 'cuz you'll be on your best behavior from now on."

"Sounds like an empty promise."

"Was worth the shot, wasn't it?"

Seongwu hums in agreement and spends the next thirty seconds compelling Minhyun into staying in bed just a little bit longer, saying that this one professor is always a no-show or arrives super late either way, which Minhyun knows is true so he doesn't feel as bad sleeping in a few more minutes.

"I think I'll… break whatever I have with Seokyi off today," Seongwu says before they both fall victim to sleep.

"'S okay if you don't," reassures Minhyun. "If you keep giving me trouble, I'll just tell you to kick your own ass. And you'll do it just like you promised."

Seongwu chuckles and burrows deeper into the little sheet nest. "'Course I would. What _wouldn't_ I do for you?"

 

**Interlude I: Dishes**

Seongwu doesn't do the dishes yet again.

Times changes and the years pass and Minhyun finds himself with a list of things he wouldn't do for Seongwu, longer than the things he actually would.

Maybe it's the unhappiness he gets from the stack of bills that keep piling up in the center of their dining table, an absolute waste of money and space but that the time it seemed like a great choice—they don't even eat together anymore. Or perhaps it's the constant change of jobs, the instability of things that are partly out of their control and not knowing what to do. Whatever it is, Minhyun can see things have changed.

It's like the dried food on Seongwu's favorite plate is a reflection of that, of change. Things get old and so do they. Where did the kids that would flip the world upside down for each other go? Maybe they're gone like the scrapes of week-old food going down the drain.

 

**Scene III**

The parties Minhyun goes to now don't need parental supervision. They're on the quiet side, too, and instead of pizza and popcorn they serve fried chicken, cheese and crackers if they're feeling fancy. This isn't his scene either.

He's twenty three and in desperate need of a raise, though, so he smiles good-naturedly when his new boss speaks wonders to their colleagues about how _promising_ he seems to be and takes the new round of beverages like a champ, even managing a satisfied noise when one of his superiors pours him a tall glass of the strongest beer they had in store. Minhyun thinks he'll either walk or crawl out of here, but both options come with a bigger paycheck in the near future so he doesn't mind getting the palms of his hands as dirty as the soles of his shoes if he has to.

Flirting, he puts up with that too.

Ms. Fitz is a nice lady. She's young and beautiful and divorced her ex-husband for the fourth time in their whole journey as an on-and-off couple—marriage—whatever. She also talks animatedly about her six year old son and how he's always wanted to have a constant male figure in his life, but Minhyun isn't sure if she's trying to find that in him.

He wonders how scandalized she'd be if he told her how he prays every night that the guy working on the cubicle next to hers is as gay as he is.

But he has something to hold on to here so he plays along, smiling all nice and asking the right things. Like, "Oh, but isn't he too old for that? What has his doctor said about it?" when he doesn't even know the first thing about children and their growing process. They're like… plants, right? Sticky, dirty, smell in ways that make Minhyun's nose itch…

"Hey, I'm going out on an arm, a leg and everything here," Ms. Fitz suddenly says, "but you'd like to have dinner with me, wouldn't you? Just the two of us without all these… formalities, I mean."

Minhyun's imaginary chart tells him that below his boss, there is a Ms. Fitz's mother who grants the woman every little thing she wants. His Capricorn moon outshines the rest of his signs when he smiles bashfully and nods, "I wouldn't like to. I'd love to."

 

✩

 

Minhyun gets home that night thanks to the cab he called. The wristwatch he always wears and never looks at tells him it's closer to 12 a.m. than it is to one and he breathes out in surprise. The dinner felt longer than it actually was and he is _way_ drunker than he expected to me, but also a lot more levelheaded than he _should_ be in this state.

He thinks, maybe from today on, he'll start winning.

That is until he gets to his floor and finds Seongwu there. He's just. He's _there_. Looking at him and making living more expensive by having the TV on when he's not even watching it, what the hell.

"Dude," Minhyun slurs. "That. Turn that _off_. You're—'s so expensive, man."

Seongwu rolls his eyes and turns off the television. "You nag even when you're drunk. I could've gone about my life without having to find _that_ out."

Minhyun scoffs as he balances his weight on the door to take off his shoes. Then he places his keys on the bowl next to the door and asks, "Asshole much?"

"Drunk much?" Seongwu smarts back. "There's dinner for you on the table if you want. I'll get you water."

He watches Seongwu make his way to the kitchen before he can actually voice out the words he wants to say, which are, "You're ugly. I'm gonna make my own damn food and spit on every glass you use. Sit down." So he's got no other choice left than go to the dining table and sees what's waiting for him over there.

Minhyun's busy mumbling to himself about how normal people keep food in the microwave so it stays warm—but Seongwu doesn't!—to notice his friend—friend?—coming to him with his water.

"My phobia is valid, you slut." Minhyun almost jumps out of his skin when the cup gets put in front of him. "Eat and clean up. Then go to bed."

Seongwu walks away and it's only halfway through the cold-supposed-to-be-hot noodles that Minhyun realizes just how _shitty_ Seongwu is, as a friend and maybe as a person too.

Growing up, Minhyun was taught to do things without expecting anything in return, but he just finds it _funny_ how he was willing to let Seongwu puke on him and treated him like a prince when he was drunk off his butt but Seongwu just did what anyone else would. Is that BFFLF (Best Friends for Life Forever) behavior? He thinks not.

With the way he stabs the fork into his pasta, one would think Minhyun is furious at his food and not at the chef.

 

**Interlude II: Choices**

"Nayeon or me?" asks Seongwu.

Minhyun scoffs. "What kind of stupid question is that? Of course it's you. When have you ever seen me hold an actual conversation with Nayeon? Nayeon, of all people, huh."

It's a sunny day and they're busy looking at places to move into. Freshman year could've been better, both of them agree; and both of them _know_ that had Seongwu been able to keep it in his pants—or at least keep it away from Seokyi—things would've gone more smoothly, but they didn't and it's over so whatever. They survived. Now they need somewhere else to stay.

The park has always been a nice place to be. Minhyun doesn't recall ever going to a park without Seongwu next to him, either, so that says something.

Seongwu hums. "You're right." He hands Minhyun a newspaper and takes the laptop from him, announcing that ten minutes have passed and he is in deep need of some sort of technology. "Well then what about… me or Jonghyun?"

 "That's like asking me to choose between my mom and—not a great analogy, wait. You'd both send me to school stark naked and without lunch." He thinks for a bit. "My great-grandfather and my great-grandmother, I didn't know either of them."

"Meaning you feel the same way about us," questions Seongwu.

"Yeah— _no_ , wait. I see what you're thinking." Seongwu barks a laugh. "I've never had a crush on you, you bitch! Just for that, I'm going with Jonghyun."

"Aw, fuck you, dude," whines Seongwu, pouting and bumping Minhyun's shoulder with his head. "He'd tease you too, if he wasn't so awkward and embarrassed."

"He would but he _doesn't_. That's a big difference."

Still pouting, Seongwu presses on. "But really, would you pick him over me?"

"Of course not, you big idiot; I'd choose you over anybody. No homo, but you're like, my other half. What the people call my soulmate."

Seongwu wheezes. "The fact that you said no homo… to _me_ ,"

"Wouldn't wanna cause any misunderstandings, sir," Minhyun smiles.

"Great, okay, thanks. You're my other half too."

"So, that means if I ask you: me or Yuta, you'd say…?"

"Oh, we're not going there. Absolutely not," Seongwu shakes his head vehemently. "You're my best friend but Yuta is the one that sucks—"

"Yeah, not going there; got it."

 

**Scene IV**

A promotion. Minhyun wanted a raise and he got a promotion. And a _raise_ , of course.

Ms. Fitz said, "I hear the boss wants to talk to you," before attempting to kiss him on the mouth like all the other times she'd tried. And she hadn't been wrong. The boss _did_ want to talk to him but it hadn't been as scary as everyone else made it out to seem. In fact, it'd been the complete opposite. He got a blinding smile and a firm squeeze on the hand and an automated message from his bank account.

What a fucking day, nothing in the world can ruin this.

 

**Scene V**

The rain started to pour just as Minhyun got off the bus. Well, the skies had been looking darker and darker as the day progressed, but Minhyun couldn't do anything about it except try to get home earlier and hope that his bus wouldn’t be late. It's a good day. Everything seems to be going his way.

The elevator stopped for about two seconds as he made his way up to his apartment. Well, the landlady did warn everyone that it'd seemed to be failing every now and then during the week, but as somebody living on the fifth floor, Minhyun is against taking the stairs. But it was a short moment and the lights stayed on just like he kept calm. It's a good day. Nothing bad is happening.

The welcome mat is filthy with mud and desperate steps. Well, it's an old one and it did rain the day before; Seongwu must have stepped on a puddle Minhyun didn't see making his way home. They can get rid of it. It's a good day. Minhyun has money and he'll eventually move out and his parting gift to Seongwu will be a new welcome mat. There's no way his parade will get rained on, no pun intended.

The door opens with difficulty. The keys on the bowl are all wet. There's an extra pair of shoes on the pile and the pile is messy. There is a trail of mud on the floor, making its way to the kitchen from the living room. And there's a bad feeling in Minhyun's chest.

Taking tentative steps, Minhyun makes his way further into the apartment and places his keys gently on the counter, away from the bowl of keys for whatever reason.

"Seongwu, are you home?" He calls out, loud and clear. A clang is heard from the kitchen. "That you?"

"Y—yeah, it's me," replies Seongwu. Alright. Good. He sounds… off, though.

"Everything okay over there?" he asks, walking carefully, getting nearer to the kitchen.

He can hear Seongwu make an affirmative noise. "'S a little messy over here, though, so I'd advise you to stay away—"

Minhyun was always faster than Seongwu.

"What. The _fuck_?"

The better ways to wake up on a Monday morning involved falling asleep on the poorly carpeted floor of his dorm room with Seongwu sticking his big toe on Minhyun's nose for the shits and giggles. Throughout the years he's learned to pull the comforter over his head to avoid Seongwu invading his nostrils when he wouldn't wake up, too soundly asleep to be bothered by the real world. Under the comforter, it'd be stuffy and get too hot too quickly, but it soon became the only way Minhyun could fall asleep; a haven of sorts.

Seeing the unmoving, battered body lying on his kitchen floor with Seongwu hovering over it, Minhyun isn't too sure he'll be able to sleep at all, comforter over the head or not.

"I can explain."

Words don't mean a lot once you grow up. When he was younger, a simple hello would make Minhyun's day. Today, whatever Seongwu has to say holds the same meaning as the words of a stranger.

"Is he alive?" Minhyun asks. Purple lips mock his question and the pale skin makes him cringe at his stupidity.

But Seongwu answers, "I don't know," and it helps Minhyun into fooling himself that maybe there is more than one conclusion.

The silence hangs heavy between the two of them – the three of them. It feels almost bad to address the body as the elephant in the room, but it does sound a lot fucking better than the unconscious man in the room.

"Just what—what did you do, Seongwu?"

 

**Interlude III: Rain**

For someone born in August, Seongwu sure does love the rain. There's something about the droplets hitting his windshield that lulls him into a state of calmness, something he isn't that certain he remembers well. When was the last time he sighed because he was at peace and not because he felt like there was something else that needed to be done? He's in his early twenties but his life makes him feel like his ageing faster than humanly possible.

This shower is welcome. It washes away the dirtiness of the roads and the worries in his head. The numbers he has to add up and take away get replaced by the number of pit-pats on the roof of his car and Seongwu feels alright, for the first time in a long while. He doesn't need to bite at his nails or his cuticles, not right now. He settles for tapping the steering wheel and basking in the soft hum of the radio, the choir of raindrops.

He thinks rain puts everything in perspective, like a curtain falling to signify the change of scene in a play, so he goes back to a simpler time: college, when Yuta wasn't something akin to a boss and more like a boyfriend, when the only order he'd get from him would be his desired takeout food and not to drive to the middle of nowhere to retrieve a package from a hole in the wall store. The things Seongwu has always done for Yuta…

Soon enough, the soft droplets become a harsh storm and his windshield _is_ shielding him from the wind but also makes it more difficult to see what's out there. According to his calculations, he's about twenty minutes away from home. The rational part of him, the one he calls Wuseong, advises him to park somewhere and wait for this rain to pass, but the impatient part, the one called Seongwu, believes he can make it through this—if he survived driving his father's old car with an almost empty tank for two hours, he can surely pull this off, can't he? Different situations, same lucky driver; this will work.

Except—you know those moments when something just _tells_ you you've fatally screwed up? Like, when you hand in an exam after debating for a good thirty minutes whether the sixth question's answer was choice B or choice D, and you originally filled in the D circle yet erased that and went for C, but just as you walk out of the classroom you overhear your classmates whispering to each other the correct answer and decide to close your ears when you hear that _D_ sound? Seongwu's had his fair share of these moments throughout his twenty-three years of life, but never had one come to him as late as it does today, when in the middle of a presumably empty road, his car collides against something _solid_ that rolls over the roof, the trunk, and drops.

The car stops unsafely, brakes floored and wheels skidding on the wet pavement. Now, Seongwu has the choice of pressing down on the pedal and drive away or, what a normal, good person would do: get out of the car in the middle of the pouring rain and check for the vital signs of the victim, because he is _sure_ he just ran someone over and the last thing he needs is to become a murderer.

But he does neither one thing nor the other. Sure, he gets out of the car, but the moment he stops before the unmoving body receiving the water attack from the sky, Seongwu begins to hyperventilate and does what every health and emergencies shows advises against: he moves the body and hauls it in his backseat, covers it with his wet jacket and pretends the man isn't sporting one of the biggest, motherfucking bruises Seongwu has ever seen in his life, right on his forehead and that his hair isn't matted with fresh blood mixed with cold water.

 

**Scene VI**

 

With Seongwu, Minhyun never knows when things happen. When they were sixteen, in the middle of a sleepover, one moment they had been reading a comic and the next Seongwu had kissed Minhyun on the lips and told him, "I am as attracted to you as I am to Candy and that's disturbing," (which, in retrospect, hadn't meant much. Like, Seongwu had said he'd wanted to kiss Candy before but the things he'd said about Nikki, an older girl, were far more… intense. Yet, they'd both freaked out that night. And Minhyun had come out to him as well, confessing he was harboring a fat crush on Jonghyun, the quiet kid from science class and Seongwu had laughed at him). And when Seongwu had just turned nineteen, one moment they're at a club brandishing X signs painted on the back of their hands and wearing some stupid fluorescent bracelets to indicate that, no, they couldn't drink, and the next thing he knows, they are both waking up in a jail cell, Minhyun's aunt and fucking Seokyi looking at them with disappointment, and mirth, on the latter's case, all over their faces.

Now, they are in their early twenties and somehow managed to carry an unconscious body from the kitchen to their living room and are currently staring at it, as if hoping the man will wake up with amnesia and not threaten to sue them for everything they _don't_ have (and they really, really are hoping).

"What—" Minhyun sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs again, "You're an idiot."

Seongwu blinks. To say that Minhyun is worried would be the understatement of the year; he feels sick to his stomach because he hasn't seen Seongwu this quiet and still since… never, actually. "Don't," grits out, somehow, Seongwu.

They're silent for some more minutes before Minhyun asks, "Why the fuck did you bring him here, really, like. I just can't understand what compels you to pick up a dead body—"

"We don't know if he's dead, Minhyun," Seongwu says harshly. "He could be concussed, 's all."

This makes Minhyun let out a humorless chuckle. "Don't you _think_ he'd be awake, or at least have, I don't know, a fucking _pulse_ if that was all it was? No, wanna know why? Because you don't _think_ , like, _at all_!"

Despite facing so many changes over the years, sometimes Minhyun is able to find comfort in the familiarity there is in some of his flat mate's quirks, like how his nostrils still flare in anger when he feels wronged and his hands turn into tight fists. Though, right now, it makes Minhyun furious.

"What else was I supposed to do, just leave him there and _be_ there when the cops and the ambulance arrived just so they could put some nice, tight cuffs on my wrists, huh?" Seongwu's gone red in the face, not stopping to breathe in his shouting.

And Minhyun thinks it's unfair.

So he stands up from the couch, not tolerating being so close to Seongwu anymore and almost feeling suffocated by having to share his oxygen with him while this _dead man_ on his fucking floor can't, and yells back, "Well, newsflash, Seongwu, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Ha," Seongwu barks. "Yeah, 'cuz that's my new hobby!" His eyes look crazy, Minhyun's mind finds worthy of pointing out, just as Seongwu claps his hands loudly and looks at him, widening his eyes and brandishing a scary grin.

Seongwu points an index finger at him, says, "You know what? Why we just get in my car and drive us to a _nice—police—station_ , huh? Ask one of the cops there if he wants to go 'round hitting people with the front of the fucking car and then we take 'em all up here to see the nice fucking view? I'M SURE WE'D ALL _LOVE_ TO SEE THE OLD MAN ON THE OPPOSITE STREET SCRATCHING HIS BALLS AT SEVEN FUCKING P.M. SHARP!"

Oh, how _badly_ Minhyun wants to spit on that fucking face. "Save your sarcasm for a better time, yeah? A _time_ where, hopefully, we don't fucking have a corpse in _my_ —my!!!—fucking apartment, how about that?"

When Seongwu opens his mouth to say something else, Minhyun interjects, "'Cuz I'm, like, about to fucking _lose_ my mind! How come you get to ruin _everything_ for me, huh? I was having a nice fucking day—got that raise, by the way, in case you were wondering—and literally nothing could take a shit on me 'cuz I was feeling like a diamond toilet bathed in fucking gold smelling like—like something _fucking fantastic_ and then you— _you_ had the gall to kill a guy! And go and ruin all my shit. Fuck you, I hate you. I despise you and I am so very fucking _sad_ it wasn't _you_ who got ran over, you piece of shit!"

The air is tense, more than it was before. Minhyun has trouble breathing—he might have to look for his inhaler—and Seongwu just stands there, staring at him.

It isn't long before Minhyun realizes that he fucked up.

Growing up, Seongwu hadn't been one to hide his emotions; he cried when tears were due and punched his pillows or walls when the anger got too much, but as time went by, he began to repress them, swallow down his feelings and put on a neutral mask thick enough to be unbreakable.

Yet Minhyun had always been the one able to, at least, cause the thinnest crack on it.

When the first tear falls down, Minhyun feels like shit. "Oh, Seongwu, I—fuck, dude I didn't mean any of that," he says, urgently—desperately—but Seongwu only cries harder. So Minhyun goes to wrap him in a hug which is _worse_ 'cuz Seongwu doesn't push him away, instead, he makes himself smaller and hides his face in Minhyun's neck.

"I'm—shit. _I'm shit_ , that's exactly what I was trying to say. That and I'm so sorry. I just—I'm overwhelmed and have all these feelings bottled up inside me and… not my greatest moment, I'll admit."

Seongwu whispers, " _I_ am overwhelmed, Minhyun; I possibly just killed somebody." And, while his words are enlightening, Minhyun doesn't fail to realize that he's doing it again, going to Seongwu and offering the world's biggest olive branch—the whole tree—but Seongwu will always focus on his own self. Though, this situation is excused, what about later? And what about earlier?

Whatever, he'll worry about that some other day. Now, he pats Seongwu's back and runs his fingers through his hair, apologizing. "I know, I know, dude. Fuck, we'll get through this, okay? I—" he takes a deep breath— "I did promise I'd help you hide the body, didn't I?"

Like that, he seals his fate.

 

**Interlude IV: Ankles**

Carsickness has been Minhyun's enemy since, well, today. Turning seven should've been a good thing, because Tony, his older neighbor, promised to him it would be. Then, if it _was_ , why was he about to vomit his guts all over his legs while his father figured out a way to softly go over a hole on the road?

"Oh, again, Min?" his mom asks, turning around with a concerned frown on her face.

Whatever was going to come out, Minhyun swallows it down and winces, shaking his head. "False alarm, I'm okay!"

"Sorry, buddy," his dad apologizes from behind the wheel. "I know it's not how you wanted to spend your birthday. Once we're settled down, I can arrange for us to come back during Christmas, yeah?"

But Christmas is in December and August is _so_ far from December. He pouts and shrugs humorlessly, bordering on lifeless. He'll miss the old house, the old city; moving away, who knows how many kilometers from home, was never in his plans. What he wanted to do was finally be able to eat more than three slices of pizza and stay up past eight, like Tony. _Those_ were—are—good plans.

And so weeks later, still adjusting to his new room and having to go downstairs rather than just turn to the right like in the old house, Minhyun still thinks about his long-term plans: three slices of pizza and glaring at the clock as the eight-oh-oh turns into eight-oh-one. But he adds his new neighbor to them.

No, not April, she's annoying and wants to put his short hair in pigtails like hers. He's talking about the Seongwu kid from across the street, the one with the red bike and the dog bigger than him. That is someone worth his time.

 

**Scene VII**

"Dude, let's just—why are you having this worse than me?" Seongwu questions, panicking from the driver's seat looking at his companion on the front seat.

Carsickness has followed Minhyun like a shadow. Adding the fact that there is a very _still_ body contorted in an uncomfortable position in the trunk of Seongwu's car, the nauseas become hyperventilation and, though he does have his inhaler with him, Minhyun begins to think that he just needs new lungs and a better friend, along with a new life far, far away from this hellhole.

Sure, he promised. Seongwu told him he didn't have to do anything he wasn't okay with, but, really, what the _fuck_ would he be okay with in this situation? It's just, sometimes, Minhyun does stupid things, like spitting on his hand and shaking Seongwu's equally disgusting hand behind the bleachers in eighth grade, or letting Ximena go down on him behind the same bleachers, years later after the graduation because he was _not_ going to graduate high school and go into college without getting a blowjob, even if it came from a girl. The senseless list hadn't been updated in a while, and so Minhyun's semi-functional, panic stricken brain just thought, shit, let's add something else to this dusty thing, son! And Minhyun _went_ and opened his mouth. And kept talking and talking and making promises and reassuring Seongwu.

And now here they are: car as cold as that time they forgot to pay for the heating system in the apartment, Possible Corpse in the trunk, and shovels they never found a use for but are now glad they wasted money on propped on the backseat.

All is _well_ — "I'm gonna throw up."

"You _can't_."

"I _am_ going to throw up."

"You do that and I swear to god, I'll—"

"What, you'll kill _me_ too?" Silence. "Oh, fuck, Seongwu, shit. Ignore I said that, I'm—wanting to throw up and not being able to makes me a mean person, which is why I should be _allowed_ to—"

"Swallow it down, man. I'm literally not going to stop this fucking car for you. Not right now."

All is _wonderful_!

Wonderfully _tense_ and spectacularly nerve-wrecking, Minhyun's mind supplies as he digs a hand in one of his front pockets and takes out his inhaler. One, two, three pumps and he is alright for the time being, hopefully. He'd wish to die but that'd be an extra corpse Seongwu would have to take care of and the thought is so bizarre—

Seongwu inhales sharply. "Please stop shaking, I'm begging you. You make me nervous."

So Minhyun stops. And now he's breathing heavily, in and out.

"And can you stop _that_ as well? What's up with you?" Safe to say, Seongwu is annoyed, but Minhyun can't help it, can he? (Well, probably, but whom, in their sane mind, would try to be _okay_ in a situation like this?)

They are driving. Seongwu is driving them, somewhere far from here, where nobody knows who they are because there aren't people around that live in there, right? The place is supposed to be like a desert, in the outskirts of the city, and they will hide this body _there_ because—because— _BECAUSE_ —

About to cry because—no, seriously, what in the ever-loving _fuck_?, Minhyun yells, "YOU KNOW MY HEART IS WEAK AND MY LIFE EXPECTANCY IS FORTY— _FORTY!_ —YEARS! WHY DO YOU DO THESE THINGS TO ME?"

"OH, FUCK _YOU_. THAT’S ALL YOU AND YOUR CRAZY HYPOCHONDRIAC HYPOTHESIS!" Seongwu yells right back, hands tight around the steering wheel. Minhyun seriously feels like he's about to throw up when he sees a sign that says _'YOU ARE NOW EXITING [Due to privacy matters, the location shall remain anonymous]! ENJOY YOUR TRIP! [List of safety measures to take during drives]'_ This is _real_.

"WH—WHA—WHAT… HOW _DARE_ YOU!"

"YOU DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW YOUR LIFE EXPECTANCY, MINHYUN, YOU BITCH!"

"OH, WELL, I'LL HAVE YOU _KNOW_ —" Minhyun forgoes Rule No. 1: 'Wear a seatbelt!' and unbuckles himself out of his seat to turn and look at the fucking driver, 'cuz Seongwu isn't a friend right now— "THAT MY GREAT AUNT DIED WHEN SHE WAS FORTY, YOU HEAR? _FORTY_! AND YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT HER FUCKING NAME WAS?" A little silence for the dramatics— " _MINHEE HWANG!_ YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT FUCKER, I'M GONNA DIE—NOT AT ONE HUNDRED BUT AT THE BEAUTIFUL AGE OF FORTY!"

Seongwu chances a quick glance at his friend – disheveled, pink-cheeked and crazy eyes staring at him. He clears his throat and scrunches his nose in distaste at the strand of black hair falling in the center of Minhyun's forehead. "We should… calm down."

"DON'T TELL ME—gosh, I'm _yelling_." Minhyun gasps, eyes wide. He scrambles quickly to an acceptable position in his seat and buckles up again. Then says, authoritative, "Don't tell me what to do," pointing a finger at Seongwu.

In response, he shrugs. "I'm just _saying_. We're—this is a ride, OK? I get it. But being at each other's throat won't help and I'm _very_ freaked out, I'm not crying because I'm trying to handle this but you know the moment we start to dig I'm breaking down."

Minhyun blinks. "I think I can wait to make a hole to start crying, yeah."

"Good. Now, let's just… wanna listen to some music?"

Though _Stayin' Alive_ is the last thing either of them wants to hear, they spend some time harmonizing in ridiculous voices and breathing out the ah's—at some point, Minhyun even points at the trunk and screams, "STAYIN' ALIVE! AH, AH, AH, AH— _STAYIN' ALIIIIIVEE!"_ which is so much fun!

But then they get there. After singing Madonna and the Bee Gee's and Queen and just everything the radio station had to offer, they finally reach the vast, sandy emptiness of the end of the city and the beginning of some no-name town of sorts.

Inhaling deeply, Seongwu holds tight the steering wheel and, looking firmly ahead, he says, "Pass me my shovel."

 

**Interlude V: Castles**

"This," eight-year-old Seongwu makes a circle around Minhyun in the sandpit, "is _your_ castle, OK? Then this," he moves a few feet away and makes a circle the same size as Minhyun's, give or take, "is mine."

Recently turned nine-year-old Minhyun nods with tight lips and a firm grip on his little shovel, "Got it!"

"Good," Seongwu smiles. He's got both upper front teeth missing, which he boasted about the moment he lost the second one, telling Minhyun that while he might be the older one, Seongwu was the one growing up faster. "We're neighbors, like in real life!"

Minhyun beams at that. "Yeah, but we're also, like, princes or something."

Excited, Seongwu giggles. They are princes of neighboring kingdoms and they trade and share and never fight, and their horses are theirs as in, what's Minhyun's is Seongwu's and what's Seongwu's can sometimes—most of the time—belong to Minhyun as well. It's a good deal.

"Ah, look, the sun's going down!" cries out Seongwu, pathetically. Minhyun's eyes widen—this means they have just a little more time to play before Seongwu's dad takes them home.

Minhyun softly pushes Seongwu towards their upside-down buckets, ushering the leftover shovel in his hand before returning him to his own circle. "Quick, dig fast!"

 

**Scene VIII**

"Could you _be_ any slower?" begrudgingly, Seongwu rolls his eyes at Minhyun and scowls at him.

It's been ten minutes since they began, the sky quickly turning a sickly kind of yellow—the one that comes after heavy rain, making everything look static and out of place, giving you the heebie-jeebies about being in the wrong spot at the wrong but somehow right time. Minhyun's ears have turned that red color that made a girl in the sixth grade approach Seongwu to ask if his friend, namely Minhyun, was feeling alright – in other words, his body is working at its hardest before giving its last hurrah, Seongwu knows, just like he can admit that it might partly be his fault that Minhyun looks so sweaty and exhausted already.

Huffing, Seongwu throws the shovel at his feet, missing the not-very-deep hole they've dug by a mere inch. "I'm sorry that my body has never met its peak in life, Minhyun," he petulantly offers. There's no time for being a brat, he supposes, but he can't just ignore Minhyun's jab.

"Oh, princess, please shut up and keep digging so we can bury your mistakes six feet underground, yeah?" Minhyun frowns at him, momentarily stopping his actions just to give him his best glare beneath the furrowed eyebrows.

So, well, Seongwu gets back to it but it seems that, with every little pile of soil he placed next to his feet, and the bigger the hole became, the realer the situation got. No, of course – he knew and he understood just fine the moment he ran that man over what he'd done, and back in the apartment, as he cried what he could after staring at the unmoving body for what felt like an eternity? It was crystal clear. But now, getting his shoes and hands and clothes and his friend all dirty with earth and mistakes, Seongwu _understands_ this is inescapable and it _will_ follow him all his life.

 _Life_ … that man in his trunk has no life. He had one—just a few hours ago, the man had been walking under torrential rain on a mission, but he longer is the owner of a life. What's funny, or sad, or irritating or stupefying, is the fact that someone out there must be waiting for him to return to them—must believe he has a life, still. And—wait, fuck, he _has_ a life: has people or pets waiting around for him and bills to pay, probably students loans he hasn't been able to get rid of – he could have a significant other, kids? What he doesn't have any more is a beating heart, a pulse. Seongwu took that from him.

It slowly dawns upon him, settles in a vice like grip around his shoulders, that he is very much digging this hole— _the_ hole. So he blinks.

"We—I'm shoveling," he tells Minhyun, as if Minhyun isn't aware, without looking up or stopping at all.

Minhyun hums. "You are…"

"I'm digging the hole."

"Yes, Ong, you are."

And like that, Seongwu starts crying again.

 

**Scene IX**

They take less than either of them expected. Seongwu managed to work through his fat tears and shuddering breaths, and Minhyun controlled his own feelings in place of showing a borderline brave, unaffected face in front of him.

By the time they're done, the sun is almost hiding in front of them and the body is still in the car.

"Let's just get this over with, Ong," Minhyun speaks, gently rubbing Seongwu's shaking shoulders.

To this, Seongwu shakes his head between soft cries, whatever is left of his tears. "I don't want to. Because—because when we take him out he's still going to be dead and I'm gonna be a murderer and I don't want that, Minhyun. I really, really don't."

Minhyun doesn't want Seongwu to be a murderer, either. What he wants is to be back in the apartment, cozy in his couch and watching bad reality shows, eating healthy snacks—this is his reality, the one where Seongwu stays in his own room or doesn't come home until Minhyun is fast asleep, still having the decency of tiptoeing to bed and making sure the door to his room doesn't creak as loud as it would if it's shut roughly.

What he _really_ wants is to bicker with Seongwu, ask him why they would eat Chinese food for two consecutive weeks when their moms are a call away and always happy to cook for them and tell him to shut up when he calls him a misogynistic bastard. Then they would binge watch any season of Teen Mom on some pirate website while they eat slightly unseasoned Mexican food and complain about what bad mothers those kids are before, eventually passing out in the couch or the floor or either's room. Like they used to the first year they moved into their apartment.

What he gets, though, is an anxious, literally _vibrating_ Seongwu who won't stop crying and a million questions without immediate answers (how did Seongwu get the man upstairs without anyone seeing him? And how did _they_ get him downstairs without anyone seeing them? Someone _must_ have. Was Seongwu in his right mind? What would Seongwu do next? Seongwu, Seongwu, Seongwu…?), with a side of a huge responsibility and this spectacularly big moment in his life that wouldn't go away, ever.

None of that reaches Seongwu's ears, though, because Minhyun simply tells him, "I don't want it either, Ong. But the faster—the faster we get this over with, the sooner we can get home and—and—fuck, I don't know. We can't keep him in the trunk forever, Seongwu."

Sniffling, Seongwu releases one last big sigh full of everything, really, and roughly wipes his face with his hands. "Yeah, I—" he coughs at the saliva stuck in his throat— "I guess you're right. Let's just—yeah."

Their mothers always told them the longest walk of their lives would be the one from the entrance of the church to where their significant other would wait for them, but right now, both of them feel like instead of steps they're taking short shuffles towards the car, ominously waiting for them—not like a future spouse would, all bright smiles and teary eyes, but cold, unmoving, and just… terrifying.

For some reason, Minhyun decides to take Seongwu's hand in his and squeeze it three times, not letting go after.

I support you, is what he means. And I'll always be with you.

 

**Interlude VI: Cotton**

At age sixteen, Minhyun gets a bunny. Technically, he doesn't _get_ it, per se—it's his cousin's pet, and they're going out of town for a while; his uncle had called in desperate need of a bun-sitter for Minki's bunny, and after informing him that he'd missed his ex-wife's wedding and she now has the most annoying step-daughter in the world, Minhyun agrees – not without laughing at his uncle calling Seokyi "Satan's brethren", of course.

On Thursdays, Seongwu sleeps over at Minhyun's, an unnecessary arrangement that came to life when Seongwu's parents had to travel and leave him behind during his exams period and the both teens had interpreted as a permanent thing.

So when the door to Minhyun's room collides suddenly against the wall behind it and a booming "YOU'RE NOT FUNNY, MR. HWANG, GET OVER IT!" comes with it, Minhyun isn't the slightest bit startled. In fact, he giggles when his father calls Seongwu insipid and a future plumber.

"The man loves me," Seongwu smarts, throwing his overnight bag to the side and himself over Minhyun's body.

"Mhmm, of course he does," Minhyun teases. The relationship between his father and Seongwu had been alright until a heated Monopoly game—Seongwu had fairly won and rejoiced right in Minhyun's dad face, calling him broke. To that, Minhyun's dad, ever the good sport and mature family man, said Seongwu _had_ to be cheating and asked for a rematch. When there was a rematch, he'd lost again.

As usual, they attempt to do homework and end up playing video games or discussing the mediocrity of certain literature classics (mostly because they're both pretentious teens that had to read _The Grapes of Wrath_ three times as a punishment in detention, once). So the night goes as it normally does, with them being loud then quiet then going downstairs to eat and back up to talk about [hushed voices] _boys_.

The thing is, Minhyun might have forgotten to mention the bunny to Seongwu, so it's logical that mid discussion about Seongwu's dilemma between wanting to make out with Taehyung and promise the world to Tiffany, the rustling of leaves and continuous _thump, thump, thump_ had shut him up.

Skeptically, Seongwu asks, "Any recent break-ins? Like, psychopathic murderers living in your walls waiting for us to fall asleep so they can kill us, quietly and slowly for their viewing pleasure or something?"

Minhyun snorts, "No, that's Nani."

"Na— _Nani_?" he replies in a comically high pitched voice.

"You fucking weeb, it's a bunny." Minhyun rolls his eyes and gets out of bed, reaching to the cage obscured by his open closet doors and taking out the animal. "See, her name is Nani, short for _Mayonnaise_ , obviously."

Seongwu stares. "Obviously," he points a single finger at the pet and softly pokes it. "Fluffy—" he squints at the moving nose— "twitchy—" and startles when it moves in Minhyun's hold— "and bouncy. It is a bunny."

"Well, _yeah_ , I said that."

"And its—her—name is Mayonnaise."

"Mhmm,"

"But you call her Nani."

"My cousin told me to."

"Minki or Seokyi?"

"Seokyi isn't my fucking _cousin_."

A moment of silence – _thump, thump, thump…_

"Minki did always worry me."

 

**Scene X**

The loud _thump-thump-thump_ ing of his heart unsettles Seongwu. Minhyun is the same.

They both move on unsteady legs and hold tight onto each other's hand, one hoping for the car to suddenly burst into a cloud of flames and the other wanting a late lighting to land on him. The closer they get to the car the biggest their need for the world to stop gets.

"This is it," Minhyun breathes out when they reach the trunk. _Thump, thump_ …

Seongwu holds onto Minhyun's arms. _Thump, thump…_ "Please, just—a moment, yeah? My heart is about to burst out of my fucking chest," he announces with a big exhale.

_Thump, thump…_

Shaking his head in agreement, Minhyun sighs. "One minute, OK? Just a minute…" _Thump, thump…_ "I think mine is going to self combust."

 _Thump, thump_ …

"Yeah, same, um, mine is like. It's so loud and my hands are shaking," Seongwu laughs weakly, like he does when he feels weak.

_thUMP, THUMP…_

Minhyun takes a hold of Seongwu's hand again and places it on his chest. "Feel this shit," he chuckles, "it's like a marching band."

_THUMP, THUMP…_

"Shit, that's, like, really fast? Wait, mine's a bit, like. Here—" Seongwu imitates Minhyun's previous action and they stare at each other before Minhyun laughs a little.

"You're like—" _THUMP, THUMP…—_ "about to pass out, dude." Then laughs again, almost mutely, and says, "We're stalling, aren't we?"

"Yeah, I'm—" _THUMP, THUMPTHUMP, THUMP_ — "it just sounds _so_ fucking loud."

Minhyun stares at him. _THUMPTHUMPTHUMP, THUMP… THUMP!_ "I—I don't think that's your heart?"

_THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP— "YOU FUCKER LET ME OUT OF HERE WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. HELLO?" THUMPTHUMPTHUMP— "CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?"_

They, very slowly, at a snail's pace, move way closer to the trunk. Leaning down, they press their ears to it. Quiet, before—

_THUMPTHUMPTHUMP—"CAN SOMEBODY HELP ME? HELLO?!!?! HELP!!!"_

They jump at that. Seongwu looks shocked, and Minhyun, uselessly, points out, "You still have tears to cry?" because his friend is, indeed, crying again.

With good reason, too, because the fucker Seongwu ran over seems to be very much alive if the way he hits the inside of the trunk and yells is anything to go by.

_THUMP— "OPEN THE FUCK UP! I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING, YOU VICIOUS FUCKING BASTARD!" THUMPTHUMP— "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"_

For some reason, this scares them more. "He's gonna sue us," Minhyun whispers, eyes wide as saucers.

"Oh, fuck," sobs Seongwu, face scrunched in despair. "We don't win in any way, fuck."

They think, for a bit, or something. They're not really thinking? They just stand there, the thumping fading into the stillness in the middle of nowhere.

Then Seongwu speaks up, "We should—we should let him out?" but it comes out more as a question than a suggestion. He swallows, "I think if I—I could just apologize? Explain the situation and then we could laugh about it like some old pals, yeah? Don't you think?"

In hindsight—in foresight, in everything—it's a bad idea. A stupid one, at least, no man is gonna laugh about being almost killed _dead_ , but they're not in a moment of perfect stability, so Minhyun just grins and nods slightly, passing the car keys to Seongwu with shaky hands.

"Here goes nothing, I guess," mumbles Seongwu.

The beep of the alarm startles them both. When Seongwu goes to open the trunk, he almost gets kicked in the face, which is somehow less startling than everything else—this is how they both know they're screwed for life.

In the trunk, there lies a battered man that has certainly seen better days—his certainly pale face is all bruised and ugly now, his hair as dirty and caked as moments earlier, but dry now, and the blood in the corner of his lips is nothing more than little maroon crumbs, now. But his eyes are open wide, alert yet terrified, and Seongwu thinks for a moment that he might as well be looking in a mirror.

"H-hi," offers Seongwu, uncertain.

The man—who isn't _dead_! Is very much _alive_!—scowls at him and they both can see he makes an effort to stand up, but it hurts (how much must have it hurt when he was punching the car?) so he stays down but sits up as fast as he can, tears in the corners of his eyes at finding himself defenseless and pretty much with nowhere to run.

Still, that doesn't kill his anger. "What the _fuck_?" he yells. "You fucking _psy_ —"

"Ji—Jimin, is it? Um," Seongwu lets out a nervous breath, registering the shock in the man's face. Earlier, they had gone through his wallet to identify him: Jimin Park, their age, according to his I.D., single with a pretty ridiculous signature.

"This—OK, how do I say this, um. Sorry, first of all? I… might have run you over with my car? And, um, you were… pretty much unconscious and you know those moments of panic where you don't know what the fuck to do and do something insanely stupid—like when you're cheating in an exam with your buddy and you're gonna get caught so you somehow save your ass by directing the attentions to others? Yeah, well, so I did something like that, 'cuz—I think you'll laugh about this eventually—you see? Um, I kinda, like, didn't wanna go to jail! So I just—shoved you, _right_ into my car! Haha, it was—fuck, dude, I was about to pee myself, I can't even ironically, out of the anxiety of my heart, pretend it was fun. I wanted to run myself over, too. And I feel so fucking bad, we thought you were dead and we were gonna bury you—" he points at the hole, awaiting Jimin's inert body— "right there, yeah? And then, elope? I don't fucking dude, man, fuck, shit, man, I'm _so_ sorry."

To the side, Minhyun can already hear the police sirens and the handcuffs clicking shut around his wrists. The jail cell's door sliding closed right in his face and the potty mouths of very dangerous convicts promising to make their lives a living hell. Yo, maybe they'll even get life sentence! (This sounds extremely enthusiastic but it is a cry for help.)

"I understand if you want me in jail. Want me dead, even; I'll let you kill me! You can drive my car and just, _boom_ , floor it? But leave him—" he looks at Minhyun fleetingly— "out of this, you hear?'Cuz he's just a dumdum who made a promise years ago and—and he did nothing _wrong_."

A couple of seconds—minutes, even—go by without anyone saying a thing, it's just Jimin staring _hard_ at Seongwu and Minhyun biting his nails. Then, like it's been made a routine of lately, the silence breaks by Jimin speaking.

He deadpans, "This could've been the coolest unresolved crime ever, what the fuck." Seongwu and Minhyun look at each other, then at Jimin. "Like, I'm totally gonna faint and my brain is palpitating, currently, funny, but like. _Dude_ , you could've been the authors of the _biggest_ unresolved murder, shit, man, don't apologize. _I_ should be the one apologizing. Clearly, I obstructed you guys from making history."

"What—Jimin, just how _bad_ did Seongwu run you over? Are you okay?" Minhyun frowns, concerned, as he approaches the other two.

Jimin looks at him, smirking briefly before moving his lips in what seems to be him saying _cute_ in a murmur before answering. "Like I said, pretty sure I'm closer to death than I was earlier because, my man, I tell ya, brain's are not supposed to do this thing. But also, I know what I'm saying. It's chill, really."

"Huh," Seongwu exhales.

"Yeah, like. Listen, I have this friend who's like, a super badass cop?" They both pale at that. "And he's just gonna _love_ this story. He's gonna laugh his ass off! He's going to—"

"— _arrest us_ , oh god," Seongwu screeches into his hands.

Jimin quickly shakes his hands, denying his claims. Then he frowns, "Fuck, that made me dizzy. Are there any hospitals over here? Feel like, I could walk about two miles before passing out. Shit, what if the vultures eat my corpse? That would be fun as hell."

"Jimin—"

"Anyways, Jeongguk wouldn't arrest you, guys! He'd actually laugh at my face and tell me that _of course_ it'd be me the one getting almost murderer and almost buried alive." He sighs, little smile on his face. His eyes are bright when he says, "I'm just one of those guys, you know?"

"Uh huh…" Minhyun trails off, looking suspiciously at the bruised man. "Hey, do you need a ride? To, like, the hospital so you don't actually pass out on the freeway?"

Jimin blinks sluggishly at him before holding up a finger, proceeding to throw up right on Seongwu's shoes. The owner of the victims cringes, but thinks it must be karma slowly making its way to him. "That—" he burps— "would be awesome and very kind of you. Thank you."

As Seongwu helps him stand up so he can go throw up a little more when Jimin says he feels _puke-y_ but also like he could make it to the hole that would've been his home, just to leave something of his since he couldn't offer his lifeless body, Jimin asks, "Would I be riding shotgun this time or is the trunk my designated seat, now?"

 

**Interlude VII: Ties**

_"Are you coming over or what?"_ Jimin's voice asks on the other side of the line. _"'Cuz, like, as the reason why I'm on this godforsaken hospital bed—"_

Seongwu huffs, "Obviously, I am. I'm just picking up some food for you. Are you allergic to anything?"

_"Why, planning on killing me for real this time?" teases Jimin._

"Fuck you, please let it go? I feel like—like a bag of _shit_."

Jimin coos. _"Are you crazy? This is the best friendship forming story_ ever _! Imagine me telling my kids, "This is the story about how I met uncle Ong" and then unloading on them the fact that I was momentarily dead."_

"You have no respect or appreciation for me and I'm honestly inclined to buying some nuts 'cuz you look like the type to be allergic to nuts."

_"That life sounds so sad, I'd ask you to kill—OK, OK, let's not growl on the phone like uncivilized wolf-kins, Ongie."_

"I really regret not speeding over your body."

 _"See! It also makes way for some great, crude jokes!_ " It wasn't a joke. _"Also, I'm allergic to strawberries. So if you're buying dessert…"_

"Yeah, yeah, see you," says Seongwu, offhandedly. "Mmm, by the _way_ —"

This time, it's Jimin who huffs. _"Yes, Taehyung will be here as well."_ He snorts, _"The fact that it took you running me over to reunite with one of your many high school sweethearts._ That's _the Universe's work, man."_

"Sweet, yeah, OK. You're not important, Bye."

 

**Scene XI**

The first person Minhyun calls when he gets his first _fat_ paycheck—the one with lots of zeroes on it—is Seongwu, who congratulates him on his gay masking skills and the way he managed to build up the tolerance to be around children (as it is, Ms. Fitz _had_ been trying to project a fatherly figure for her child onto Minhyun and he did a pretty good job at handling that, like the piece of shit he is).

The next person to find out is a group of them, actually: there's Jimin, who became their BFF in the span of a few months—all due to countless hospital visits and allowing him to stay at their apartment when his roommate said, and here comes a quote, "As a lesbian, I refuse to wash Jimin's dick. It is also because I hate him and I'm very sad to see him standing here in my living room", but also because Jimin was the key to Seongwu's and Taehyung's, Jimin's original BFF, relationship—and Taehyung, and Jimin's cousin, Sungwoon, A.K.A. Minhyun's boyfriend in the making, Jimin's neighbor Yuri ('cuz she's nice and smells like cinnamon and threw Minhyun over her shoulder the first time they met, thinking he was there to rob her) and Jimin's roommate, Seulgi. All of them gave him a pat on the back (through text) and somehow coerced him into buying drinks for all of them that night.

So a few hours later, Minhyun stands next to Seongwu in front of the bathroom they've always shared but have long forgotten how tiny it is when there's two people in it, smiling like happy men because—shit, they _are_ happy men. And they're friends, still.

Minhyun physically feels like he can breathe better—years of wishing he could fix whatever had happened between him and Seongwu (growing old by themselves, without the other; preoccupied by their own things, yet never making time for each other) and finally, _finally_ , it had happened. Had he known all they needed was for one of them to nearly kill some innocent fellow, Minhyun would've done it earlier—well, not really, he doesn't think? Either way, the rough patch in their relationship has been smoothed out and Minhyun believes he can confidently say that it'll stay that way forever and ever.

"Are you ready?" asks Seongwu, meeting eyes with him through the mirror. He looks content with himself, eyes extremely happy and a little gone, dim, but that's to be expected.

Minhyun nods, "As I'll ever be."

"Then, let's go, best friend ever."

 

**Interlude VIII: Curtain Call**

Seulgi is going off about how nice her best friend Sooyoung's hair is to Yuri, who keeps interrupting to talk about a Jessica nobody's ever heard of when a very drunken Seongwu lets his heavy head fall on Minhyun's shoulder.

"I'm, like, in love with him, man," he slurs, looking at Taehyung and attempting—miserably failing—to seductively wink at him. Seongwu sniffs and blindly reaches for another bottle of whatever's available then. "Wanna marry him and bear his children, like a good—" _hiccup_ — "wife."

Minhyun laughs. "Biologically, you can't do that."

"Ar _rr_ —gh, I'm a pirate," Seongwu giggles, then frowns. "No, that wasn't—I wasn't gonna say that. I was gonna—" _hiccup_ — "curse at biology for being homophobic. Why can't men have chil-rren, like. The fuck. Who did that."

"Some big, big anti-mpreg meanie whose dick I would suck in gratitude."

"You are—disgu _sh_ ting, my man, let me tell you." Then Seongwu makes this face and— "Can you take me to the bathroom? Think I'm gonna—" _hiccup_ — "you know, let everyone know what my dinner looks like after Digimon."

Standing up, Minhyun keeps him going. "You meant digestion."

"Who are you to tell me what I fucking meant," he scowls, leaning against Minhyun, unsteady on his feet. "But yeah, I meant disintegration."

"The fact that you can say that but not digestion…"

"Infection,"

"Not even close, man."

"Alienation," he muses.

Minhyun is half busy reassuring Taehyung that "nothing's wrong, really, your boyfriend's just not emetophobic friendly right now," so he absent-mindedly informs Seongwu, "Not quite there yet, no."

"Tis hard," he pouts. "Oh, the bathroom. Am I here to take a bath?"

"NO," Minhyun screams because— _well_. "Don't get too messy," he reprimands before asking, "Toilet or sink?"

"Which one's closer?"

"Sink."

"OK, toilet," and there he goes.

Somehow, this hits close to home, rubbing Seongwu's back as the excess of alcohol catches up to him. Seongwu's eyes looking a little lost before focusing on him and smiling, somewhat sleepy.

Minhyun almost tears up when Seongwu asks, "If I ever had to run from the law, would you help me hide?"

And for whatever reason—friendship, nostalgia, idiocy—the answer comes as easy as the reassuring smile does, "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

>  ** _OP_** i did my best for u….. yea this mess is my best u__u i am SORRY and i think u said u didn't want the Crime to be the driving force of this right well idk if i managed to do that LOL which is WHY they're both shitty ppl i think…..i need a reason  & i'll take that
> 
> also [twiddles fingers] i separated this in scenes cos it was easier!!!! but also uno…. i was picturing this the way one would watch a movie like u know how a scene goes to another scene in a fade out fade in kinda way yeah like that so ummm wow fun facts!
> 
>  
> 
> i can't say i'm.. proud of it?? but also i'm, like, not hating it!!!! just wish i could've found a Better Way to make this lil group of friends become friends as in yeh jimin was gonna b that way (fun fact jimin was supposed to be sungwoon but then i said fuck that let me have some uhhhhhhh shock factor in this lol)) BUT I WANTED IT TO B BETTER DAMMIT anyways im still kinda proud of this soooooo whoever read all that…..whoever op is…. i hope u liked it!!!!!! mwah mwah mwah xxx


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